Do you have any earthly idea how difficult it is to find black cheerleading shorts in a small town at midnight on a Friday?
Anyway, watch for me on TV next Wed. night, I'll be in gold, the Colts just lost, and I'm really really sorry but the drugs they've got me on to keep my lungs from drowning are making me think funnily. (Funnily??) Shane, I'm so very very mad to be missing your party for the first time in like 4 years! We always have so much fun in your basement!! (Remember the body paint?)
Tomorrow I'm off to warmer climes. Dance like nobody's watching. Happy drinking to all; happy spinning where applicable. Love everyone you can lay hands on.
Never, ever bring your dad along to the Christmas movie, even if your friends adore him, especially if the Christmas movie is Dracula 2000.
Santa Claus was good to me. I got my pretty new keyboard that I can actually type on from bed without endangering everyone around me with dangling cords and such.
It being winter break and all, the boys and I have managed to get together on a fairly regular basis. Once again, we're all getting along great because we see so little of each other now. The other night we were all piled into Shane's living room watching movies and goofing off. Amy and Rhys were there and not fighting (well, except with pillows). I was sitting by Jake the entire time, and we did not punch each other. Not once.
We had more than our usual amount of goodbyes to say. Curtiss and Andy were both there. Both of them are going to be leaving us shortly for a pretty long time. Later, when I was driving home, I laughed out loud because I miss my friends more than ever now that we're all together for the better part of the month.
We used to joke that "We're all one big dysfunctional family, and the children are all abused". I'm not going to deny our dysfunctionality for a second, but I loved every crazy day. It's easy to take your loved ones for granted, but it's worse to take them for granted when you know you'll have only a measured amount of time in which you are sure to be together. I'll be thinking about that when I return to the urban wasteland that's been made so much brighter by the kids I've met.
Merry everything!!
Hot damn, my grades were posted today. 5 As, (one of them's pass/fail but it's still nice to have it), and.....one B+. In Chem. No surprises there.....Actually, big surprise there. I'm amazed. I must have kicked the final's ass to China. Still, that's good enough for summa cum laude, Dean's list, and sets me on my way to Phi Beta Kappa. I haven't gotten grades like this since the fifth grade. No joke. Now let's see if I can pull this off again next semester when I have to haul my ass to the Hill at 9 in the morning. Mother and Daddy are over the moon, AND it's snowing. So my Christmas break's kicked off in fine style, aside from this damn flu that I STILL have not managed to shake off.
The only way I can think of to phrase it is that I think I'm finally going to be OK. I'm altered in ways I never thought possible. And I'm going to live through this. I'm a college freshman. Drama is normal, and being surprised at all the life changes doesn't make me special. I'm just like everyone else.
The indignation I have inside me at being stuck here is not going to go away, at least not any time soon. But I've found that I can channel it, use it to my advantage. It's not great, but it's enough. And that's a good thing, because for now, it HAS to be enough.
I've met people who aren't just like me, but are close enough for me to relate to. It's an eerie parallel of my freshman year of high school--I showed up at this place bound and determined to hate everything and everyone--until I was discovered, and subsequently adopted, by a large and motley crew. The timing is also the same, which makes the parallel all the more coincidental. The first time I ever remember hanging out with the people who would become my closest friends in high school was close to Christmas of my freshman year.
If high school is the great divider, college is the great equalizer. There aren't any freaks here. Or maybe there ARE misfits, and I just can't tell because there are so many of them that they're no longer a minority.
I'm doing lots of things at school that I'd never do at home, purely because I've been taught to despise them....and I'm having an absolute blast. Sometimes I wonder what the boys would think of me if they could see me now.
Then I smack myself in the head and tell myself, "Self, if these people are really the friends you think they are, they won't give a good goddamn WHAT you do."
We're never going to go back to the way we were, none of us. I never promised consistency. Only camaraderie.
That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.
Crunch time is over, vive le petit matin des vacances!! I don't think I failed anything, and I'm home in my own room for the better part of a month. I'm still flu-y, and have yet to notice any real improvement, but at least I'm out of the concrete jungle.
Ketchup:
SKINderella's over. The Studio 54 party was pretty emotional. We were dancing and disco-ing in a manner that just may have surpassed the redneck party. But when someone had to leave, everyone got all teary-eyed. We had the 'Fallen Armoire Awards', presented by Joe, and everyone got a kick out of those.
Stephen picked out Adam's clothes for the party. I think he was s'posed to be some kind of astronaut gigolo, but all I could think was "Oooh, shiny!!"
I gave Mike a ride home. Before we left, we stood out on the porch for a long time, smoking and just taking the past few weeks in. He misses his friends up in Jersey the way I miss mine in NC. There was a quiet, comforting understanding standing out there in the cold, looking across the river at the city that, for better or worse, we've come to call home.
I am very sick.
But in the meantime, I get endless entertainment from the drama across the hall. Mo's roommate is fattening her up so she can kill and eat her. True story.
I was awake for a grand total of six hours yesterday. I'm now officially really really sick. Sinus infection or some such nastiness. Right before finals week, no less. The last time I had a sinus infection during finals, I ignored it and wound up contracting asthma and walking pneumonia. I think I might just hit the clinic this time.
As far as the other night--yes, everyone is still cool and the group is whole again.
So fare thee well, chickadees. I'm off to the French final. Tonight is closing night for SentToHella, SINderella, CinderHella, Skinderella, or whatever it's being called today. Studio 54 party tonight. Be there or it's your ass.
I think my space bar is semi-broken. Small wonder, considering the number of times I've dropped this keyboard.
I didn't want to go to the party tonight. I can tell I'm about to get really sick again. I was going to go home, drink some juice, and go to bed. But I was persuaded by the hostess of the party that I had to at least make a cameo. My reasons for wanting to drop in on this party and my reasons for wanting to stay home both centered around the same person, natch. I finally convinced Mexy to go with me, and we headed off to the east side.
I think all my pimping skills have been transferred from Lucas to Ian. Every party we hit together, I hook him up with a different girl. Last time it was Cinderella. This time(lucky man), it happened to be Mexy, who was feeling frisky.
Without going into too much detail, the drama of the last few weeks is finally at an end. In the middle of the dance floor we finally had the talk we've been needing, and when it came time to make a decision, I was surprised to find I'd rather stay single. So. All is copacetic again; we're Just Friends, and I couldn't be more relieved.
Still, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
It's sad, but I just don't have the motivation anymore to sit down and let it all out when the going gets weird.
Long long story very very short--I have to ace all my finals to keep my scholarship. No pressure, right?? This is why I didn't want to work this year. Look what SentToHella has made of me. And my knee is bothering me again, which is casting a shadow on my Miami trip.
I've been infatuated before, but it's never affected my ability to hold a coherent conversation.
Everyone else seems to find it highly amusing that we will both be talking perfect English, then the other one will make an entrance and we'll start tripping over words like 'and' and 'the' and 'plankton'....the fact that I know he's doing it as well is of small comfort.
Things that bother me: One, the speed with which things have gotten weird. Two, the speed with which I have lost all semblance of control of my own voice. Three, the ease with which, in reaction to the current awkwardness, I have begun to play "Let's see who can care less!!"
I walked out of the theatre, and nearly ran into him. The crowd that had gone to the lab show was standing outside. Sadly, after an initial start of surprise (for which I hate myself for both not being able to control it and wanting to control it), I breezed right on by them. Pure apathy reflex. I didn't go so far as to greet everyone else I knew there, but I could have. In fact, I actually started to, then stopped myself. There's no need for animosity. Max is right. I need to chill the fuck out.
Excuse the constant interruptions.....rehearsal called. I'm basing my character (Amy Lee in Laundry & Bourbon) on Mary Cherry.
Snow. Right.
So we ran out into the snow, and Rae and I passed a few minutes twirling in the street. After a midnight breakfast expedition and drawing pictures on car windows with Chemay, I got to drive home through the snow and stumbled into bed around seven. Daddy Dearest and I went to buy our Christmas tree when I woke up.
I love my bed at home. I always loved it, but I never appreciated it enough until I came to a place where sleeping is a hazard. (YOU try being A Thrasher in a loft bed with no rails.)
A show on Tuesday, two on Wednesday, two on Thursday, one on Friday, two on Saturday, then All-Nite....is it any wonder we're all basket cases?
For what it's worth, much of last week is a sleepy blur. We went to MacLeod's as usual on Thursday night. Ian made me go, and damn near killed us both on the way over. Kasey and Sam pulled up beside us at a red light, in the turn lane. When they went to turn, Ian assumed the light was green and began to tear through the intersection. Only the reflexes of the driver of the Ford Excessive bearing down on us from the left saved us.
Hilarity ensued, as ever, once we got there. I actually got up and sang. There's your funny, there.
I don't even remember what happened Friday night, which is probably for the better. So. Saturday night. My prediction turned out correctly. Skinderella has turned into soft porn. It's great. I think some of the water that the cast of Hamlet II was drinking trickled down onto the mainstage. The least little thing that goes wrong is now cause for hours of laughter. My side of backstage is filled with innuendo and posturing, and I couldn't be happier.
Finally All-nite rolled around. I have one class with one of the guys who did a scene. He usually just screws around, but when he got up to do 'The Diviners', I was blown away again. I can still hear the voice he used. It was really...something...to see all those talented people in one place.
Phil read a story about being stuck in the trunk of a car that had us in stitches for the better part of an hour, then, just as he was finishing, Laura came in and informed us that it was snowing like crazy. We cut the night short and ran out.
Excuse my lackadaisity (??). I blame Hell Week II. Oh dear God, where to start....I don't have the strength for another marathon post, really I don't. And yet we've had so many grand adventures. It's been two weeks exactically.
As for the "infamous Friday night" and its consequences--any entanglement that originates from Spin the Bottle is bound to run into trouble sooner or later. Things really got off to a bad start. It's very difficult to get something going when everyone is watching you trying not to watch each other. Too much outside pressure. Night promises aside, I honestly think we're better off as friends, a point we thankfully both agreed upon at some point during the last two weeks. We've got a class together next semester, so we'll see if we can start over and get things right this time.
The week that followed: I actually managed to make it home several times over the course of the break, but mostly had to stay close to campus because of the show. Lonely at times, but not too bad--my new surrogate family in the department kept me nicely occupied. We went over to Ashley's and played a drunken round of Celebrity, with the usual hilarious results.
I made it out to Kingston for Thanksgiving, just for a couple hours. Saw baby Dominic, and wouldn't let anyone else near him. That child has got a temper. He's so adorable, though, so it's forgivable. Saw Erin for the first time in a while. She's still unbelievably gorgeous and sweet and I have no clue how she puts up with a big monkey like Adam all the time.
After the Thanksgiving show, we went to Ashley's again. This time we played Never Have I Ever, and got some insights that I just didn't need. It did, however, provide me with a wonderful quote of the day. I got inducted into the CBTDT (CBT Drinking Team). It's nice to be adopted again.
Then came....[cue ominous music].....the redneck party.
The Friday night before Hell Week II, Kasey and Sam threw a redneck party at their apartment. This had been a pet idea of ours the previous night at Ashley's, and had seemed like a well thought-out plan at the time. (We now blame the alcohol involved, but I digress.) We all had to dress up in trailer-park clothes, bring cheap booze, adopt white-trash names for the evening, and speak with funny accents.
We honestly thought this would be a harmless activity.
I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. As CBTDT neophytes, we were obliged to play every drinking game we knew and then some. People who never ever ever party after the shows (Stephen, Tommy, Mike, etc.) showed up in full redneck regalia. It warmed my heart. (Well, that might have been the alcohol, but it was fun either way.)
The definitive highlight of the evening was when Dan walked in with his two nephews, who were visiting from Atlanta. The second they entered the room, these two innocent young men were confronted with the sight of about a dozen teenage girls dressed like white-trash whores running up to hug and squeal at their dear old uncle.